You are as gold 
as the half-ripe grain 
that merges to gold again, 
as white as the white rain 
that beats through 
the half-opened flowers 
of the great flower tufts 
thick on the black limbs 
of an Illyrian apple bough.

  Can honey distill such fragrance 
As your bright hairó
For your face is as fair as rain, 
  yet as rain that lies clear 
  on white honey-comb,
lends radiance to the white wax, 
so your hair on your brow 
casts light for a shadow.

Added: on May 8th, 2007 at 6:47 PM | Viewed: 11095 times | Comments (2)

Poet: H. D. (H. D. Art)
Poem: Song
Poem of the Day: May 6 2008

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